Back to Baker Street
by Sherlock HolmesXIrene Adler
Summary: Sherlock Holmes returns to Baker Street and John Watson, but with an accomplice. Written by me and my friend Anna aka my John :)
1. Chapter 1

A man stood alone on a balcony, watching the rosy, warm colours of the evening sky begin to fade into the emptiness of night. His light blue eyes strained to see into the darkness, but it was a futile attempt.

A light breeze whistled by, ruffling his dark brown curls. Sherlock sighed.

The past few months had been hard, after the tedious task of faking his own death had proven successful; he needed to come back to life yet the vast, tangled web of Jim Moriarty stood in his way.

At the present moment Sherlock was waiting for his accomplice to walk down the dirty stone path. Sherlock had been hiding in this small Dartmoor house for too long; it was time to make his move.

Familiar footsteps could be heard from behind him, he does not turn around until she speaks.

'Hello Mr. Holmes. It's been too long.'

Authors note- Hi this is possibly to be continued if you wish so, me and my friend Anna have been writing this together we hope you like it please review!

we do not own Sherlock nor the characters.


	2. Chapter 2

The two old friends sat in the living room of 221B. Dr. John Watson had not been able to leave the flat and move on. He felt that leaving would ruin the memory of Sherlock Holmes. He sat with Mike Stamford.

The large man took a sip of coffee and replaced it on the table, he did not however sit opposite Dr. John Watson; that would mean sitting in Sherlock's chair.

Like many other possessions which belonged to the late Sherlock Holmes the modest black leather chair remained untouched, collecting layers of dust in the living room of 221B.

Mike shifted awkwardly on the sofa, out of topics of conversation. John had not said a single word apart from "tea" since he had entered. Mike realised that it had been a mistake to meet John at 221B.

'So...John, how have you been?' Mike said sympathetically; with a hint of concern in his voice.

He spoke as he exhaled. 'So, so.' This was not a lie, it was hardly as if John had not struggled without the company of his recently deceased best friend, he had found more difficulty filling the hole in his heart that Sherlock had left.

At first he had friends to go to of course Mrs Hudson, his sister; but they could not cheer him. No matter how many times he saw the therapist, she could not find the route of his problems. She thought there was some deep-routed trauma, when in reality, John was just lonely.

And soon after that he met Mary. She had become the light in John's life, the small candle burning brightly in a darkened room. Mary had been kind to him and helped to lift some of the crushing grief that weighed down the doctor's shoulders.

'Have you... Erm been to the grave?' Mike said with a hint of worry in his voice, he needed to know his old friend was coping, his limp had returned as did his sadness.

John sighed heavily. To tell the truth, he had not been able to bring himself to return to Holmes' final resting place. 'Once or twice' he muttered, glaring into his tea.

Mike nodded, and the uncomfortable silence fell into place once again.


	3. Chapter 3

Dartmoor was a small lonely place, the people who lived there craved peace not excitement, they stayed in their town like hobbits. Day to day life was slow paced and gentle. There was no need to rush anywhere and there was defiantly no drama. Not the kind of life for Adler and Holmes.

Together; they sat on the rusty furniture set of the balcony. The area was lit by a collection of half melted candles, their yellowy glow reflected from the windows of the tiny white cottage.

Adler sipped her red wine slowly, letting the soft berry taste melt on her tongue. Holmes surveyed her carefully, his fingers arched in front of his face. Holmes had missed the woman dearly since her departure, not that he would ever let her know that fact.

'So, why Dartmoor?' Irene said, her tone as smooth as silk per usual. He left a long pause before replying, 'Henry Knight, he owed me a favour.' A chuckle died at the back of her throat. 'Plus who would expect the great Sherlock Holmes of all people to be hiding in such a quaint town.'

Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her, 'Just observing a slower pace of life, Irene.' He smirked. 'Oh Mr. Holmes.' She sighed 'I know as well as you do that a slower pace of life is simply not something that suits you!' Sherlock rolled his eyes.

'Why did you ask me here anyway?' Irene asked 'Am I forgiven?' Sherlock frowned, 'Forgiven for what exactly, I have nothing against you?' His eyebrows knitted together as a confused expression appeared on his face. She smirked whilst she recalled past events, 'Well I did manage to bring the nation to its knees and I almost beat you.' 'Yes. Almost.' He said with a hint of smugness.

Irene's expression did not change. 'You did not take the curtesy to answer my first question, why am I here? I do have a life Sherlock.' He replied quickly, 'Yes, a life which without me would exist no longer.' She smirked slyly at that comment.

His little rescue mission had proved his sentiment, which of course they both still denied, after all it was a chemical defect found in the losing side.

Irene did not reply. He sighed deeply fighting back a smile 'We're going back to Baker St.'


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Irene awoke very early, the sunlight streaming through the the curtains of the master bedroom. She stretched her arms above her head then ran a hand through her wavy dark brown hair.

She had never felt more relaxed in her life, and of course that had nothing to do with Sherlock. Suddenly a glint of silver caught her eye and she saw a silver plate on the desk, holding a slice of toast.

Irene could not keep the smile off of her lips as she got out of bed and approached the desk. A small note beside the plate read: 'You're no good on an empty stomach - SH.' She picked up the single slice of toast and took a bite of it hungrily, she appreciated the food but was this really all he could manage?

After she had eaten her breakfast she made her way to the kitchen; descending the stairs. The kitchen was small with friendly-looking oak furniture and beige tiles. It also did not contain a certain Mr Holmes.

Irene poured herself a glass of water and sat down at the table, drinking quietly. 'O-oh! I didn't realise you weren't dressed.' Irene whipped round in her seat to see a red faced Sherlock stumbling away from the doorway.

She giggled to herself and glanced down at her attire - a red lace bra and grey jogging bottoms - an 'off night' outfit.

Without warning the doorbell sounded, Sherlock hesitated to answer the door while in this awkward situation. Removing himself from the kitchen he took large hasty strides towards the cottage's wooden front door then opened it.

On the stone doorstep stood Henry Knight. 'Oh it's you.' Said Sherlock stepping away from the door, 'I guess you should come in.' He nodded and smiled at Sherlock even if he was being a miserable sod. 'Um, yes what time did you want me to take you to the station?' Henry said politely 'Seven.' He replied sharply. Henry nodded. 'That will be all.' Said Sherlock curtly.

'O-okay, erm... Seven, yes.' Henry mumbled as he left the cottage. Sherlock slammed the door violently behind him and turned back towards Irene in the kitchen. A few steps forward Sherlock remembered Irene's attire; or rather lack of it and changed his mind, following Henry out of the front door and closing it quietly.

Irene sighed. As pleasant as it was, joining Sherlock on his quest back to London, she could only feel that she wanted something more than a simple adventure. She wanted to come back to life herself. For Irene Adler to be resurrected. That was one of the two wishes she had, the second being... secret for now.

Irene smirked to herself. Life in London would be hectic, but it would be home. She assumed she would be staying at 221B Baker Street with her fellow companion until the crime web was entirely demolished, and that could take some time. She imagined people's reaction of her return, Mycroft would have kittens!

Irene chuckled to herself and went back to the master bedroom to get changed. She chose some dark denim skinny jeans and a loose white shirt. She left her hair down in waves, she didn't want to stick out too much in the sleepy country village.

Grabbing her jacket as she exited the cottage she slipped it on whilst Irene briskly walked past Sherlock and Mr. Knight talking in the driveway without giving them a second glance. 'And where do you think you're going?' Sherlock asked taking Irene's wrist before she could leave. 'For a stroll, why would it matter to you?' He reluctantly removed his hand without replying.

Irene continued her brisk walk down the country lane for about 12 minutes and then she reached the centre of the village. She took a sharp turn and entered the small local supermarket by the church. Irene browsed through the ready-made meal section, hunting for dinner as neither her or Sherlock could do a thing in the kitchen.

After choosing two spaghetti bologneses for their evening meal Irene purchased them and left. For a moment she did consider stealing them, just for a challenge, she had more than enough money for anything she could want, yet she was here; in a tiny village with the worlds only consulting detective, though she did owe him a favour.

Out of pure boredom, Irene found herself browsing CDs in the charity shop, looking for anything, when a deep voice stopped her. 'Anything good?' Irene whirled round the see the handsome store assistant, smiling down at her.

'Unfortunately no.' She said, returning his smile, she noticed his name badge "Daniel." 'Yes sadly we don't get much in. I'm Dan by the way.' The man smiled shyly at her. 'I'm Alice.' Irene returned the smile quickly thinking of an alias.

'You're new round here aren't you. Just that I haven't seen you around.' Said Dan. Irene nodded 'I'm staying with a friend just out of town.' She explained, 'I'm just exploring a bit.' Dan smiled charmingly at her. 'How about I find out more about you Alice, over lunch?' Irene stopped and thought for a moment, this would annoy Sherlock no end. 'Sure Dan.' She said and a huge smile broke over his face, 'I'll meet you in the pub in a few hours.' He said and hurried over to attend to the next customer.


	5. Chapter 5

Two hours later Irene found herself in the local pub sitting delicately on the bar stool sipping her white wine. The pub was dark and cosy, shades of red and hard wood adorned the walls, no where near as posh as where she usually ate but it would do.

Dan entered; now wearing his own clothes: a checkered with jeans. His light brown hair was brushed neatly and his emerald green eyes sparkled in the faint light. He spotted Irene and went over to her, thumbs tucked in his pockets.

'Hey, Alice.' He grinned, taking a seat next to her. 'Dan.' Irene said a seductive smile on her lips as he sat himself on the bar stool next to her, 'Lunch?' He asked a bit too keenly, obviously he was in a bit of a rush due to his short lunch break.

'Of course!' Said Irene, reaching over the bar to ring the bell for attention. The bar man hurried into sight with a beaming smile, showing off his gold teeth. 'A table for two please.' Said Dan confidently.

'Yes!' Shrieked the bar man; 'Do follow me!' He ran out of the bar ahead of them, wild white hair flying behind him in a wave.

The pair were guided to a small solitary table in the somewhat crowded bar; decorated with a single fake red rose in the restaurant's cheap vase. 'Perfect.' Irene exclaimed, giving the bar man a cheesy smile. Dan pulled back a chair for Irene and then seated himself opposite her.

Such a gentleman Irene thought. Sherlock would never had thought of that. But then again Sherlock would have never invited her out for lunch, it annoyed her how the only person in the world that she had...sentiment for, didn't openly care for her.

Dan was different, just a normal young man from a small village, well that was what she knew so far, at the moment he was merely a tool to her. Irene glanced up at Dan from beneath her eyelashes and saw that he was studying the menu, 'Anything good?' She asked.

'Only if you're a farmer!' Dan chuckled, showing her a menu that consisted only of pies. A few men around them glared at Dan due to the farmer comment, sending the pair into fits of giggles.

'Not a farmer yourself I see.' She mumbled so they would not be overheard once again. 'No.' He replied, 'I grew up here but I'm only staying for about a year, I moved to London when I was nineteen.' Dan continued in a way which Irene thought was supposed to impress her. 'Well that's a coincidence, me and my...brother are returning there soon.' Said Irene smiling widely.

A pleasant look of surprise appeared on Dan's features. 'Where do you live?' He asked. Irene paused for a moment before replying 'Oh we lived in Islington but we were evicted because the estate was demolished...' Irene let her voice trail off sadly.

The effect worked exactly how she expected it to. 'I could put you up for a while?' Dan suggested. 'Really?' She said with faked excitement 'We were going to stay with an old friend; but it's quite a small flat, so that would be excellent.' Dan smiled back at her beamingly as the waiter came to their table to take their orders.

'Can I take your orders?' The waiter asked in a monotone voice. Irene deliberated for a moment before replying 'I'll take the chicken and vegetable pie.' She said. The waiter nodded approvingly and jotted in his small notepad. 'And I'll have the steak and ale.' Said Dan.

The waiter gave them a bow and trotted back to the kitchen. 'Alice,' he smiled sweetly, 'I know that this is all a bit sudden. But do you believe in love at first sight?' He asked curiously.

Irene internally groaned and fought to keep herself from rolling her eyes in despair at the cheesy comment. She quickly composed herself and gave him the sweetest smile she could muster and reached across the table, linking their fingers together, 'Of course I do.' He blushed in reply at her intimate gesture.

'Do you?' Said Irene, 'I do now.' Dan said, swallowing hard he unlinked their fingers. 'I have t-to use the-uh-bathroom.' He said, his voice shaking slightly, he stood up quickly and took large strides out of the restaurant area.

Irene sat back in her chair, smirking to herself as she knew exactly what the problem was. Irene loved the effect that she had on people. Suddenly a low buzzing sound emitted from her bag, after rooting around quickly she pulled out her phone-which had an incoming call from Sherlock.

'Irene? Where the hell are you?' He demanded in a slightly aggressive tone, unlike his normal voice. 'Oh you know, I went for a look around the town...and now I'm on a date.' She dropped the bomb waiting for his inevitable (jealous she hoped.) reaction to kick in.

All Irene heard was a sharp intake of breath and a pause before he muttered 'Make sure you're back by six thirty.' In a stiff tone and hung up.

Irene sighed with the phone still at her ear, 'Bye love.' She said sarcastically, dropping her phone back into her bag. She looked up 'Who was that?' Asked Dan in a very small voice. Well he was a bit too nosy for his own good, she replied anyway, 'Just my brother, Sherlock.'

'Thats a peculiar name.' He said in a far more positive tone, no doubt because now he knew that it was only her brother she was talking to, he was being a tad overprotective, after all he had only just met Irene/Alice hours ago.

But to Irene, this was helpful. The sooner he trusted her the better, 'I know.' She said warmly. 'I always used to tease him about it.' Dan nodded and sat back down, just as the waiter headed over to them with two steaming plates.

The rest of their meal went by quickly, she dropped the odd flirtatious comment and he responded obediently every time.

Soon enough the waiter was back with the bill and Dan waved away Irene's purse and pulled out his own debit card. 'Now about my flat.' He began. She smiled expectantly at him, 'Yes?' Irene queried. 'Well I know we've only just met,' Dan took her hand; 'But I feel as if I can trust you, so would you like to stay with me in London?' She grinned as he took keys from his pocket and placed them in Irene's hand closing her fingers around them.

'Oh of course Dan!' She squealed, 'I feel like I've known you for years!' She threw her arms around his neck in a very little-girlish way and very unlike Irene Adler.

Dan squeezed her waist and smiled as she pulled away. 'Listen.' He said 'I won't be able to go with you tonight, but I can be there tomorrow, here's my number.' He passed her a business card and kissed her cheek. 'I've got to get back to work now, so see you then.' He smirked triumphantly.

She quickly kissed him on the lips before leaving the pub, looking back giving him a smile.

Irene Adler was back in the game...and she was **winning**.


	6. Chapter 6

Back at the cottage Sherlock waited impatiently for Irene's return. His fingers tapped in a constant rhythm on the wooden kitchen table. He heard Irene's key in the lock and immediately swung round-away from the door-and opened a book pretending to read.

He certainly did not want Irene to think that he was waiting for her. 'I'm back.' She said as she closed the door, only to spot Sherlock sitting near the table. 'Evidently.' He mumbled.

Irene raised her eyebrow at his upside down book, clearly avoiding her suspicious gaze. Sherlock kept his eyes firmly on the book.

Irene smirked to herself and shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the stand by the door. 'Make sure you have your things packed by quarter to seven.' Said Sherlock sternly, eyes still fixed on the book.

Irene leaned in very close to his face and said 'I never unpacked darling.' She then turned away and walked into the living room.

Sherlock let out a deep sigh and brought his hand up to feel the tingling skin of his cheek where her breath had been.

The woman didn't know it, but she was driving him mad.


	7. Chapter 7

Two suitcases sat together in the cottage's kitchen, one blood red and the other dark blue. Irene sat on the bottom step of the stairs, red lips pouted and red painted fingernails drumming rhythmically on her knee.

Holmes was a whirlwind, tearing around the house grabbing books and ornaments alike and throwing them into bags. So much for Irene not being late.

'Are you almost finished dear?' Irene queried in a sarcastic tone. 'No.' Sherlock huffed as he lifted yet another bag of books to his suitcase. 'Why no moving van?' she asked, knowing the answer very well.

There was no answer, just an icy glare in Irene's chuckled to herself and stood up to open the door; just as Henry knocked. 'I'm afraid the ice princess isn't quite ready.' she said.

Henry raised an eyebrow as Sherlock yelled 'Shut up!' from the living room before lugging the last of his possessions through the hallway. Irene laughed whilst she watched Henry scratch his head, part in confusion and part in awkwardness.

Sherlock caught her eyebrow causing him to look away immediately. Irene shook her head and slid the handle up from her blood red case and dragged it over to Henry's car and let him lift it into the boot for her.

She slid into the car in a very ladylike manner, taking out her phone to text Dan while she waited. From the corner of her eye she could see Sherlock having a heated debate with Henry about how he was going to transport all this luggage. She rolled her eyes while Sherlock sat in the front passenger seat of the car, slamming the door behind him.

Before long Henry's car was up to the brim with luggage, Irene could barely move. 'Who are you texting?' he quieted in more of a demand. She pondered for a second before replying in a mischievous tone, 'Oh, just my boyfriend.' Sherlock turned around so quickly that the seatbelt snapped him back into place.

Irene slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh as Sherlock turned to face her again, this time more slowly. 'You have only been here for a day, Irene, that is not possible.' he said angrily. Irene just sat there smiling to herself in a way she knew would infuriate him.

Henry coughed awkwardly and started to drive. 'Anything's possible.' she said eventually, flirtatiously. Sherlock turned back round not wanting for Irene to read his expression, 'What's his name?' asked Sherlock taking his phone out of his pocket, 'Dan. Dan Norton.'

Sherlock sniffed and looked out of the window, 'Doesn't sound good enough for you.' he said in a monotone voice. Irene looked up smiling a little. 'You only know his name, Sherlock.' she said quietly. Sherlock said nothing and kept facing out of the window.

'Hmph, someone's jealous.' she added after a moment of silence. 'No I'm not.' Sherlock growled in a voice which she found immensely attractive. She quickly closed her eyes as Sherlock looked round at her so she didn't fall for the dilated pupils trick again.

'Are you okay Irene?' Henry asked looking at her through the rear view mirror with a worried expression. 'Fine darling.' she replied, eyes still shut. Sherlock scoffed quietly, catching onto her trick immediately. 'We'll be there in a few minutes.' Henry said.

'Good!' said Sherlock, as quickly as possible. He turned his gaze out of the car window. She wouldn't have let him see her pupils because they were dilated, surely. But somehow he found himself doubting his deductions from all that time ago. Things change, he could not deny that.

'Mint?' Henry asked out of the blue, offering a packet of polos to Sherlock and Irene. Sherlock looked at Henry with a disgusted expression and turned back to the window. Irene muttered 'Thanks.' and quickly grabbed a mint, popping it in her mouth.

Silence fell over them once again, apart from the sucking noise of Irene and the mint.


End file.
